A Dark Bond
by Vanguard523
Summary: After a failed attempt on Kotal Kahn's life, Erron Black is banished from Outworld and ends up in a place he feels like he has a deep connection with. Dedicated to all you Erron Black fans out there (I know I'm not the only one.) Story will not be updated often, but will be updated more often as I finish the rest of my ongoing projects.
1. The Hunter Is Caught

Kotal Kahn paced around his courtyard, attempting to come to terms with what had just happened.

Erron Black, one of his most trusted guardians, had just tried to kill him for a large sum of money. It was not Mileena that had hired him however, which actually made the situation better. He should've expected it as well; the only thing that kept the mercenary from turning on him in the first place was the amount of money he was promised each week.

"Something bothers my emperor?" D'Vorah asked, approaching from the large statue still under construction.

The Kahn nodded with a grim expression. "Black's decision must be punished, however I cannot end his life."

The Kytinn grew confused at the statement. "And why is that? He tried to take your life and failed, so it seems only fair that you should do the same."

"True, but if I kill him, what is to prevent Ferra, Torr, Reptile and Ermac from turning on me as well for fear that I might end their lives as well?"

She couldn't come back with a response as his logic was quite sound. If one of the emperor's protectors was executed by the Kahn himself, the other's trust in him would shatter like glass.

"What then does my emperor plan to do?"

Kotal Kahn then slowly turned his gaze from the dirt covered ground up to his advisor. "He will leave."

"What is to stop him from coming back?" The Kytinn countered.

"I will banish him to another realm. On which is unknown even to the Elder Gods."

Erron Black was awaiting his punishment, watching from the execution platform while D'Vorah and his former employer talked.

"Stay still, bang bang!" Ferra ordered while her monstrous companion kept the un-aging man held down with a single hand on his shoulder.

Black scoffed and looked to his right where Ermac hovered above the ground with crossed arms. "Don't suppose you'd be willing to cut me free, would you?"

The legion of souls encased in a single body shook its head. "We would not."

The mercenary let loose a deep chuckle and smiled underneath his mask. "Once the Kahn kills me, which one of you do you think is next?"

Upon hearing the statement, Reptile crouched in front of the master gunslinger to meet his gaze. "The rest of us are too valuable to be executed."

Black couldn't contain his laughter at the claim. "So the rest of you think that you're the best bodyguards the Khan could possibly ask for?" He asked rhetorically. "I can promise you that once someone else who comes by who's stronger, smarter, faster and willing to take his orders, he won't even hesitate to kill any one of you, no matter how long you've served him for."

"Shut up!" Ferra shouted, causing Torr to nearly break Black's shoulder when he tightened his grip.

"Ferra, Torr, enough!" The Kotal Kahn shouted as he made his way towards the platform. The massive beast loosened his grasp on the man's shoulder, but kept it placed close to his throat.

Black then looked up at his now-former employer and smirked underneath his mask. "So you gonna' kill me where the rest of them can see us or do you want to go somewhere discreet?" He asked, fully prepared to meet his death.

The Khan scoffed back and shook his head. "I will not kill you. Instead, you are hereby banished to a realm from which it will be impossible to return from."

"I'll come back. And I'll finish the job." He deadpanned.

"No." The Kahn stated. "You won't." He then began chanting in a language unknown to the mercenary and weaved his hands together for a moment before pushing both palms towards him when a flood of fire closed over Black's entire body, causing him searing pain.

The others backed up in shock and stared at the odd sight in front of them, the emperor's hands spewing fire at the traitor, his body slowly starting to fade away rather than burn and turn to ash as one might expect. After a few seconds and a shout of pain from the gunslinger, his figure had completely disappeared from sight and Kotal Kahn was breathing heavily, hands on his knees as he tried to regain his balance and breath.

Reptile and Ermac helped their emperor to his feet while D'Vorah's eyes widened at the spot where the traitor had been crouching just a moment ago. In it's place was no ash, no corpse, no evidence that Black had been killed.

"Where did my emperor send the traitor?" She asked him.

He grunted and waved off the two who tried to help him. "Away. Far, far away."

Black had no idea what happened. He had been hired to kill Kotal Kahn by an unknown party who paid a hundred million dollars in advance, which only failed due to the fact that Torr had stepped in the way of his shot at the last possible micro second, was about to be executed, but then the Kahn said something about being banished and now he was crouching in the middle of an empty warehouse, possibly in Earthrealm.

"Hey boss!" He heard a voice shout. Black looked to the entrance of the large building to see a guy holding a rifle dressed in a long white coat with black body armor, combat boots, gloves and a grey mask looking at the master gunslinger. "We got somebody in here!" The guy yelled as he then aimed his rifle at Black.

The mercenary's instincts kicked in as he then drew his signature dual golden revolvers and fired three rounds from each one in quick succession, each bullet successfully hitting its mark. Oddly enough though, the man did not die, but just fell over unconscious. Black then checked his weapons to see that they were loaded with actual bullets and not rubber fakes, but they were as lethal as could be.

Something else then dawned on Black as he remembered that when he had been restrained by Ferra and Torr, the symbiotic duo had taken his revolvers, his rifle and the salvaged tarkatan blade, but all three were present; the revolvers in their holsters and his other two weapons slung across his back.

"Why is good help so hard to find?!" A voice yelled angrily. Black then looked up to see a man with long orange hair and dark green eyes wearing a white trench coat, black pants and black shoes with a bowler hat to match and carrying a cane enter his field of view as he stood over the other unconscious man. His posture suggested that he was much more relaxed than the other man as his tone matched.

"Well, looks like we have a cowboy in our midst." The man in the fancy hat stated with a smirk. "So tell me huntsman, which kingdom are you from?"

 _Kingdom? Huntsman? Is that his way of saying mercenary?_ Black thought. "I'm a merc." He replied just loud enough for the other man to hear him.

The mystery man's eyebrows shot up and he smirked widely at the statement. "Oh. Well how would you like a nice fat paycheck?"

Although intrigued, Black did not lower his guard for a second as he quickly holstered his revolvers and drew his rifle in the blink of an eye. "I'm listening."

The other man was about to say something when six people wearing the same outfit as the unconscious man sprinted to the other man's side and aimed their rifles at Black.

"It's all right boys, he's with us." The man declared to the others, making them slowly lower their weapons.

"Not until you tell me how much I'm getting paid!" Black growled back, keeping his rifle aimed at the other man's head.

"First let's get introductions out of the way. Roman Torchwick, master thief and criminal mastermind." He said with a bow. "And you are?"

"Erron Black. Now payment?"

The other man continued to smirk as he shrugged. "First I have to know for sure if you're on board, how skilled you are and if you're prepared to kill on my order.

"And I have to know just how god damn much you're paying me, where the hell I am, and what organization you work for because I assume those aren't some outfits you boys chose when you got up this morning."

Roman sighed and leaned on his cane. "Okay, I can promise you a lot of money, you're in a warehouse in Vale and we work **with** the White Fang, not **for** them."

"And just where in Outworld is 'Vale'? Just south of the capital or what?"

"Buddy, Vale **is** the capital. Of the kingdom of Vale at least."

"What in god's name are you talking about?" Black replied, more on edge now than ever as his finger hovered over the trigger to his rifle.

He scoffed back. "Do you have amnesia or are you just stupid? You're on this planet called Remnant and in the Kingdom of Vale, how much more do I need to explain? Do you need me to teach you how to walk as well?" Roman added sarcastically, making a few of the White Fang grunts chuckle.

Anger got the best of Black as he fired six rounds from his lever-action rifle, each one going to the head of a different White Fang member's head, knocking them unconscious just like the first. "Make another joke like that and you're next." Black threatened.

Roman was actually shocked at how fast the other man moved. He had just dispatched half a dozen of his guards at a speed that rivalled Red's. He held his hands up defensively and tried to calm the marksman. "Okay, just calm down and tell me what you want to know."

Black then moved forward, holstered the rifle over his shoulder and drew the salvaged blade he used as a sword, pressing it to Roman's throat as he demanded further answers. After a long interrogation, which was at no fault of Roman's but rather the description of exactly just how Black had gotten into his current position, the deadly sharpshooter exhaled deeply out of disbelief and sat against the wall of the warehouse outside.

 _Remnant. Why the hell does that place so damn familiar?_ "So I'm on a completely different planet than Outworld or any of the other realms?"

Roman shrugged. "I guess so. But like I said, I just happen to have a job opening and we can provide you with lots of killing and lots of cash."

Black looked up at the other man, sheathed his makeshift blade and nodded. "Well then Mr. Torchwick, it looks like we've got a deal."

Roman offered Black a hand as he stood. "Great, I'm sure the other guys will be more than happy to meet you." He said with a smile until a thought entered his mind. "Just watch out for two smart-ass kids who think they run the place."


	2. Doing Business

"Roman, do you honestly expect me to believe this ridiculous tale?" The woman who Roman introduced to Black as Cinder asked as the three of them stood in a warehouse full of Schnee Dust Company shipping containers with White Fang members offloading the cargo.

Black's new employer shook his head and let out a nervous chuckle. "No, I don't expect you to believe his story. I just want you to keep an eye open for talent and trust me, this guy has tons."

The orange and red themed woman raised an eyebrow. "Really? Do tell."

"Well, he managed to take out half a dozen grunts before I could blink." Roman vouched for his new henchman.

"Emerald and Mercury can do the same." She retorted.

Roman scoffed and shot a doubtful look at Cinder. "From over twenty feet away with headshots?"

She hummed in thought. Even she had to admit that not even her two greatest underlings had **that** kind of accuracy. After a moment of careful planning, she nodded. "Very well then Erron, name your price."

Black smirked and crossed his arms. "For starters, I want a place to stay. Somewhere where the cops won't think twice about searching for me."

"I can take care of that." Roman interjected.

"And I want five thousand… what's the currency here? Lien? That right, Roman?" The criminal nodded back. "Right five thousand lien a month and that's not including expenses."

"Expenses?" Roman inquired.

Black nodded, his signature hat partially obscuring his eyes as he did so. "Expenses. I need ammunition for my weapons as well as tools to keep them maintained."

Roman exhaled deeply. "Five thousand's a lot of money."

"Yeah, it is." Black affirmed. "But you're paying for the best and most experienced gun you've ever seen."

"How about this." Cinder started. "I will send you on a trial run, just to see if you truly are as good as Roman claims. If you do the job to my standards, then your request will be granted in full. If you pull off the job, but not to my exact directions, I will give you the money with no benefits. Fail the job, and you get nothing."

Black chuckled as he shook his head. "Lady, I **never** fail a job. "Throw anything you have at me."

The remark seemed to provoke Cinder as her eyes began to glow a bright orange and her brow furrowed. "Very well. Your assignment is to find and kill a huntress known as Jacqueline Battara. She's been tracking the White Fang for months now and has made significant strides in doing so. Getting rid of her will allow us to move more freely and will add a delay to the time in which the police receive information about our movements."

Black nodded and shot a smug look at Roman, whose jaw had gone slack at the difficulty of the assignment. "All right, where can I find her?"

Cinder smirked back at the supposed expert marksman. "We don't know." She declared. "That's why I said 'find then kill her.' If we knew her location, she'd be dead by now."

"How much time do I have?" Came Black's response.

The pyromancer thought for a moment before answering. "Two days. Today is officially Thursday, so you have until midnight on Friday to kill her."

"Need proof of the kill?"

"Her symbol. Every huntsman or huntress has one, so bring it back and I will consider taking you into my employ."

"Doesn't sound very difficult." Black stated.

Cinder's smirk grew as it reached from ear-to-ear. "Roman, please elaborate."

Black turned his gaze to the orange-haired man, who then took a deep breath and put a hand on his cane. "It's difficult because we know that she travels by a heavily-armed police motorcade when she's in the city and is always accompanied by four cops when she's out on the dirt roads."

The sharpshooter's eyebrows shot up as he looked back to a now cackling Cinder. "And you are only to kill Battara, not the police." She added after recovering from her fit of laughter.

 _Okay, I guess I'll just have to resort to long-range methods or knock out the cops, tie them up, then leave them in a ditch._ He thought. "Consider it done." Black replied without fear.

"Roman, don't bother apologizing after your protégé dies on his assignment. I've begun to get used to you constantly failing me." Cinder replied as she turned on her heel and ascended the stairs to the catwalk of the warehouse before disappearing from view.

Black glared daggers at the back of her head while Roman took a breather.

"So…" Black started. "There anything else you can tell me?"

Roman shook his head at first, but then remembered something. "You know what aura is?"

The marksman shrugged. "It's something that surrounds a person."

"Ehhh… kind of. I don't know if you have it where you come from, but where we're from, aura is basically a natural shield that keeps your ass alive."

Black gave his employer a doubtful look as he explained everything he knew about aura, ranging from how if a person was trained with their aura they would become extremely tough to a huntsman's semblance.

"So how do I know how strong my aura is and what my semblance is?"

Roman stopped Black from talking as he then pointed his cane at the mercenary and fired an explosive round into his chest, knocking him backwards.

Black took a deep breath to contain his rage as he got up off the cold concrete floor of the storage building and glared at his employer. "You mind telling me exactly what the in the god damn hell that was for?"

Roman shrugged non-chalantly. "Well, we know that your aura's unlocked and that it can take more damage than the rest of these animals." He stated, pointing a thumb at the White Fang members. "As for your semblance, you'll have to figure that one out on your own."

Black knew it probably wouldn't help his chances of getting hired by this group if he lashed out, so he decided to wait and direct his anger towards his target. "Any ideas where I should check first?"

Roman shook his head and sighed. "Nope. None. If I was in your position though, I'd try the bars. Anyone who knows anything usually runs one or frequents one."

"See you by Friday then." Black said as he exited the warehouse, brushing the shoulder of a kid dressed in grey and black with ash colored hair and eyes the same shade as his hair.

"Hey, watch it!" The boy shouted at Black. Both males took in each other's appearance and the unknown boy began to chuckle. "I didn't know Roman was working with circus clowns."

"And I didn't know he was working with a prick either." The marksman quipped back.

"Hey, you know what?!" He yelled.

A brown-skinned, red eyed, mint-haired girl wearing white and brown pants with a green and white undershirt to cover her chest punched the boy hard in the arm and glared. "Shut up, Merc."

"No!" Both Black and the boy shouted back simultaneously. Confused, they looked at each other until the green-haired girl broke the silence that had formed.

"Mercury, let's just report in." The green haired girl told her compatriot.

"No _Emerald_." He heavily emphasized her name. "Not until this shit bag apologizes."

Black let out a sarcastic laugh. "For what? Your inability to walk in a straight fucking line?"

The two continued to glare at each other until Emerald punched the ash-haired boy again, this time in the chest. "Let. It. Go." She drawled out threateningly.

He growled in response and made for where Roman was poring over a map of Vale.

Black grunted and continued on his way, towards the road and the nearest bar or club. _Must be the kids Roman warned me about._

It wasn't the sight that attracted the marksman to his destination but rather, the noise. He managed to hear the bass thumping from about two blocks away and continued to follow the sound until he found himself in front of a place labelled 'Junior's'. Never one for constant loud noises, (other than the satisfying sound of his gunfire obviously) Black tentatively entered the dance club and walked up to the bar on the second floor as strobe lights threatened to blind him. He pulled his hat down further over his eyes in an effort to shield them and had to shout in order to speak to the bartender over his mask and the unnecessarily loud music.

"I'm looking for someone." He stated.

The man clad in a black and red suit with red tinted glasses smirked and gestured to the other male patrons. "Join the club, buddy."

"Someone specific." He replied back.

"A friend?" The bartender asked as he poured a shot of liquor for someone else.

"Not exactly. More of a business acquaintance."

"Ah. Well if it's business you're looking for, talk to Junior. He's manning the bar by the dance floor."

Black gave a nod of acknowledgement and descended the stairs to where he hoped to gain information. As he approached the long counter and noticed the man behind it, Black could only wonder if the man who was standing there was in fact human. His size rivalled Torr's and he definitely held an air of authority around him.

"Hey!" The mercenary shouted. Junior turned his head towards the newcomer and greeted him with a smile.

"What'll it be?" He asked.

"Info."

The tall man's brow furrowed and he turned around to the assortment of alcohols behind him. "Info…info…nope, sorry fresh out of that." He replied with a smirk as he spun back around and placed his hands on the black countertop.

 _There goes the straightforward approach._ "I'm looking for someone. A huntress to be precise."

At the word 'huntress,' Junior's posture notably changed from calm and joking to one that resembled a warrior going into battle. "What's the name?"

"Jacqueline Battara." Black replied.

The man-bear's brow furrowed. "Is she blonde, kind of young, wears shorts, a tan jacket and uses shotgun gauntlets?"

It was Black's turn to be confused. "No idea. To all of it. I **do** know that she travels protected by the cops though."

During his many years of servitude to the Kahn, Black had learned that when questioned, people often had certain ticks that gave away whether they were lying or not and the man in front of him might as well have been infested with the bugs as he gave a small smirk and lied to his face. "Can't say that I've ever heard of anyone like that. Although, for a price, something might spring to mind."

Black roared out of frustration internally. _Can't bribe him, no cash, can't persuade him, too stubborn and he's not willing to give in to straight questions, so I guess threatening it is._ He drew a golden revolver and aimed it straight at Junior's head.

"How about your life? How much is that worth?" Behind him, the mercenary heard the cocking of several weapons as Junior kept smirking.

"Look around you, moron. You really think you're in a position to make demands?"

Black moved his head slightly to the left and right, keeping one eye on the massive man as he realized that about a dozen men wearing the same uniform as the first bartender was pointing a handgun at him.

Then, within a second, Black grabbed a sand grenade at his waist, threw it into the air and fired a bullet straight through it, causing the contents of the glass container to fly everywhere and temporarily blind the men who threatened him. At the sound of gunfire, people began to scream and flee from the bar, knocking over additional guards as Black began to dispatch them.

The three directly behind him were the first to fall as Black spun around, swept their legs out from under them and jumped on two of their skulls while he fired a round from each of his revolvers into the last. The four to his left were next as they continued to attempt to remove the sand from their eyes while Black holstered the handguns and drew his makeshift sword, slashing a large gash in each of their chests until they fell over from rapid aura depletion and exhaustion. The five that remained managed to recover from the improvised stun grenade and fired at Black, their semi-automatic pistols unable to hit their mark as Black took to the second floor, took cover behind the upper bar, drew his rifle and with practiced precision, fired two rounds each in three of the guards while two others still stood. While his rifle was now out of ammo in the magazine, Black switched back to his revolvers, but was suppressed by the firing of a rocket launcher from an unknown source.

It was then on top of the bar that Black had noticed a couple of coins. The mercenary chuckled to himself and took a quick peek as to where the other gunmen were firing from. Once he had their bearings, he took cover again, tossed the two circular pieces of metal into the air and ricocheted a round off both of them, hearing a pained shout from each of the men a moment after.

"Melanie! Miltia!" He heard Junior shout. "A little help would be much appreciated!"

Curious, the sharpshooter peered over his protection to observe as two girls, one clad in a white dress, the other in red, stood in the middle of the dance floor with crossed arms and shook their heads in unison.

"Melanie, are we getting paid overtime for this?" The one in red asked.

The white one shrugged back. "If we're not Miltia, we damn well should be."

Black took cover again, reloaded both his revolver as well as his rifle and leapt over the bar with a hidden smirk. He fired two rounds at each of the girls, but much to his surprise, they missed their mark as the two began to serpentine towards him. Knowing this was going to become a close-quarters fight, Black slung his rifle over his back and drew the blade just in time to block a vicious slash from the girl in red who had claws akin to Ferra attached to her arms. Black kicked her in the stomach and she reeled back while the one dressed in red spun in the air and delivered a solid kick to his head.

Stunned, the mercenary stumbled back but managed to recover as she attempted the same attack. This time, Black ducked, grabbed another sand grenade, crushed it in his left hand and threw the sand into the girl in white's eyes, causing temporary blindness. The girl in red was back as she dove towards him, claws extended. The sharpshooter dodged out of the way, drew his left pistol and blocked another deadly slash from his opponent and kept her right hand occupied while he fired all six rounds into the girl's stomach, causing her eyes to shoot open and breath to exit her lungs as five rounds managed to cut through her aura, leaving her with a small hole in her mid-section as the last bullet went straight through her body.

"I'LL KILL YOU FOR THAT!" Black's other attacker screamed at the top of her lungs as she kicked repeatedly with her bladed heels. After dodging and parrying several kicks, the girl in white jumped into the air and aimed a downward slice at his head but Black saw the attack coming and shuffled backwards, the foot hitting the floor of the club as Black quickly placed her in a chokehold and smashed the handle of his left revolver into her temple repeatedly until it had depleted her aura, but still left her conscious.

Black then flipped his blade into the air and grabbed it so that he had a proper grip to allow for a downward stab to his attacker's throat, but a voice stopped him.

"WAIT!" He heard Junior shout. Black looked up to see the large man laying a rocket launcher on the floor of the dance portion of the club with his hands in the air. "Don't kill her. Please."

"Then tell me everything you know about Jacqueline Battara or I'll give her a new hole to breath out of." He threatened, the tarkatan blade only an inch away from the girl's neck.

He could barely make out what the club owner was telling him as he was talking so fast about how Jacqueline was now at a fortified vacation home a few kilometres away from Vale and the police were going to escort her back to the city tomorrow night by horse, the huntresses' preferred method of travel.

Satisfied with the amount of information, Black sheathed his blade, kicked the girl to the floor and glared at Junior. "Cooperate with me next time and you won't have to hire new help." He declared before exiting the club.

 _I've got to strike tomorrow then._ Black thought as he clutched where the girl in white had kicked him. _Can't be during daytime hours though or else they'll spot me from a mile away so the road at night is probably my best bet. Although, now that I think about it, that'll be cutting it pretty close to the deadline._

The master gunslinger sighed and looked around at the many buildings that occupied the city. "I guess I might as well play the part of a tourist until then."


	3. Night Raid

After familiarizing himself with the city's infrastructure and roads, all of which was as natural to Black as breathing by now due to the amount of times he'd been tasked with protecting Kotal Kahn's carriage in the treacherous streets of Outworld, he decided to head back to Roman with a report.

He managed to traverse the streets with relative ease, occasionally receiving the odd stare from the rare nighttime passer-by. When he got to the safe haven, Roman was leaning against a wooden table smoking a cigar with an exhausted expression on his face. Upon seeing his new employee approach, he exhaled the smoke from his lungs and stood straight.

"Learn anything?"

"I learned **everything**." He replied. "Battara's holed up in a fortified vacation house a few kilometres away and she's going to be escorted back to the city tomorrow night by horse."

Roman's one visible eyebrow shot up. "How'd you hear about that?"

"One of the owners of a dance club decided to tell me what I wanted to know after his goons tried to kill me."

Roman let out a chuckle and grinned. His new employee appeared to be doing tremendously well. "Who was the owner? Did you get his name?"

"Junior."

"Damn." The bowler-hat wearing man mumbled. "Well, the only downside to giving him a beat down is that I won't be able to hire any more of his guys. Although, now that I think about it, they were idiots anyway."

"You met him before?"

"Yeah, I needed some muscle to pull off a robbery so I hired his guys, but a huntress got in the way and she just annihilated them."

Black let out a laugh as he sat down on a box and did an ammo count. "Yeah well, you get what you pay for."

"Ain't that the truth." The other man affirmed as a short woman with pink and brown hair split evenly down the middle of her head with corresponding eyes wearing a white jacket with a pink inside a brown corset, brown pants along with black gloves, several necklaces and white boots with black buttons approached carrying an umbrella.

Black scoffed at the ridiculous looking woman and looked to Roman as he removed some rounds from his hat into his revolver. "You hiring high-class help now?"

The woman appeared to hear the remark and merely tilted her head with a small frown on her face.

"Uh Neo, this is Erron Black, our newest addition." Roman addressed the woman.

"Neo?" Black echoed. "As in Neopolitan?" The woman gave a nod of affirmation while Roman did the same.

"She'll serve as my bodyguard while I'll send you on more… aggressive assignments."

"Good. I've done enough guarding in my life so assassination contracts are more than welcome."

Roman took another puff on his cigar and nodded. "Well, there's certainly no shortage of those." He declared with a smirk. "Oh, by the way, we'll be moving out soon but I need you here in Vale so here, take this." He said as he opened a box containing several rectangular shaped see-through devices and handed one to Black. "It's called a scroll. We use them to communicate."

"Like a radio or cell phone?"

Neo shot a confused look at her employer while he nodded. "Yeah, sure. Like a phone." Then came the extremely lengthy process of teaching the mercenary how to use the relatively simple device, causing more than a few muffled laughs to elicit from the mute woman.

Finally, Black managed to handle the scroll with ease and his stomach grumbled. Even though he was extremely slow to age, he was still human and therefore, still had to eat.

"Don't suppose you've got any food around here?" He wondered aloud.

At this, Roman nodded to Neo who then walked around the warehouse before her eyes settled on one crate in particular, opened it up and tossed a brown packet at Black, who caught it with one hand and turned it over. "Meatloaf with cabernet sauce?" He read.

Roman shrugged. "You can eat at all the fancy restaurants you want once you get paid but for now, you'll have to deal with some MREs we 'borrowed' from the military."

Black opened up the brown package and smelled its contents before pulling away in disgust. He then sighed as he realized there was no other option but to eat the pungent meal and undid his mask, letting it drop into his lap as he grabbed a nearby fork that someone had left, wiped it on his cape and ate. After he finished his impromptu meal, Black reattached his mask and tossed away the empty packet to see a grinning Neo and an astonished Roman.

"What?" Black snapped.

"Didn't think you'd actually eat that crap." Roman replied.

Black gave a grunt while Neo handed the marksman a bottle of water. He looked up at the short woman who gave him a sympathetic look. "Thanks." He said, grabbing the plastic bottle from her hand and undoing his mask once again. "So can you tell me what the story is with those two kids?"

Roman put out his cigar and exhaled smoke once more. "Cinder's little projects. The girl's a decent pickpocket and the smartass guy's an assassin. Sounds like his dad was his first target."

Black nodded as he took a swig of water to wash down the awful aftertaste of his meal. "Takes a special kind of crazy to kill someone you're related to." He declared. "Speaking of, where are Cinder and the other two now?"

"Beacon Academy. Masquerading as students until we move all our supplies down to the south east of Vale."

"Okay. By the way, where exactly am I going to be staying?" Black asked.

"Got you a safehouse just outside the city. No one goes there because of the grimm and the only way to get there is by airship. You'll get your own private bullhead and pilot to transport you to and from the place."

Black half-smiled as he downed the last of the water and clasped his mask back on. "Never got this kind of treatment from my last employer."

"Yeah, yeah. Don't make me out to be the good guy here." Roman waved him off. "If you need a place to sleep tonight, in the back of the warehouse there's a sleeping bag. I'm going to make sure that these supplies get down to the south east, so I'll be in and out of here a lot."

Black gave Roman a look of confusion. "So… what does that mean for me exactly?"

"Means that you'll be receiving your assignments remotely while I'm supervising these guys and Cinder's taking care of her little brats."

Black gave his employer a nod and readied himself for his upcoming task by reloading his weapons, making sure they were clean and taking a nap in the back of the warehouse while the White Fang continued to move their supplies.

One final preparation he made was to take a bullet from his hat and etched the name 'Jacqueline' on its side before placing it in a pouch close to his right holster.

The next day, Black awoke at one in the afternoon and made for the road where his target would be moving. He waited patiently, hidden from anyone who travelled along the path by kneeling in a patch of grass shrouded by the tree line. Upon seeing four men riding on horseback with a free horse tailing behind them wearing Vale police uniforms, Black grew alert and began to analyze the men. Basic handguns, body armor and police batons. Nothing he couldn't handle with extreme ease. Black continued waiting until the sun went down and he heard the familiar sound of hooves on dirt.

On the far left side of the road from his point of view, he could see the four policemen returning with a hooded feminine figure riding the fifth horse in a diamond formation. Black smirked and aimed his rifle towards the head of the man in front. His finger was but a millimetre away from the trigger before a thought struck him like a rock.

 _What if his aura isn't strong enough to absorb the hit? Then I won't get the bonus._ The mercenary let out a quiet growl of frustration as another thought sprang to mind. _Guess I'll have to do this the hard way._

His hands were like lightning as he quickly fired five rounds, each of them going towards the horses themselves rather than their riders, causing all five to neigh in terror, buck off the people on their backs and bolt away. Switching to non-lethal methods, Black threw a sand grenade in the middle of all five people and shot it causing the tiny grains of obscurity to fly everywhere.

The man who was on the right side of the formation and closest to Black was the first to fall as the mercenary sprinted out of the forest and delivered simple head butt followed by a devastating uppercut leaving him injured, but still breathing. He then moved on to the man in the front of the formation who was still rubbing the sand out of his eyes while the master gunslinger drew his rifle again and sent his opponent flying by hitting his chin in an upward direction with the butt of his long gun. As the policeman was falling back to the ground, Black dropkicked him with both feet straight in the gut, causing him to fly backwards five meters. The two remaining targets had regained their bearings and upon seeing their oppressor, drew their pistols and fired at Black who was unprepared for the attacks and wound up with three large bruises in his chest as a reward for his lack of awareness. He fell backwards onto the muddy road as the main target began to regain her sense of focus from the sand grenade while the two policemen approached Black's prone figure, weapons ready.

"Who are you?" One of the men demanded.

"None of your business." The marksman replied as he kicked his companion behind him in the shin, forcing him to fall forwards and onto the man who was pointing a gun at Black. He then rose from his position and placed both men in a headlock, one in each arm. After a few seconds of writhing, they both stopped and Black made sure they were still alive, which much to his relief, they were as he felt a pulse. He then turned his attention to Jacqueline Battara, who had removed her hood which revealed her long brown hair tied in a ponytail oriented slightly to the left of the back of her head and a pair of dark green eyes while she wore a pair of black jeans with a grey long-sleeved shirt with the entire right sleeve cut off, exposing her arm to the open air. Over the heart of her shirt, Black noticed what must've been her symbol as it was a grey shield that slightly resembled a rock in that it was cracked as though a stone might be.

The huntress said nothing as she shook her head to remove any sand that was left in her face and took off the hood that obscured her face as she picked up a spear off the ground that her horse had dropped when it bolted. The two were engaged in a stand off as they stared at each other, Black's hands hovering above his revolvers while Jacqueline awaited her opponent's first strike.

Since the mercenary was the one who was on a time limit, he attacked first with three shots from his right revolver and the huntress spun her spear clockwise, blocking all three bullets. Black let out a light laugh, intrigued before quickly holstering his revolver and drawing his salvaged blade, striking horizontally and vertically, all of which were blocked. The gunslinger had left a gap in his defenses and the huntress took notice as she struck Black in the stomach with the butt of her spear and delivered a knee to his chin. Reeling backwards, Black shook his head as he observed his opponent's weapon divide itself in half, forming two shortswords as she spun in a circular motion forcing her attacker to go on the defensive as he quickly blocked the strikes with his own makeshift blade. Eventually though, his opponent also left a hole in her guard and Black was able to strike both the blades away from her with a mighty diagonal slash, making it easy for him to strike as he grabbed her by the shoulders, threw her slightly backwards, drew both his revolvers, struck her with the handles of both of them, shot her in the kneecap with his right one and fired a round directly into her face with his left. She then skidded backwards on the dirt road several metres and much to Black's amazement, got back up. He then holstered the handguns and performed a quick reload on his rifle.

Black assessed how his target was faring by how she moved and breathed. Judging by these two factors, she must've been exhausted as her movements became slightly lazy as she slumped over slightly while beads of sweat dripped down her face and her breaths came out ragged and dry. Going on the offensive once more, Black fired three rounds from the long gun at his opponent, only two of which she blocked this time as the last one grazed her uncovered arm. After letting out a muffled groan of pain, the huntress formed her two swords back into a single spear as rock encompassed her entire right arm, similar to how he'd seen Tremor do. Jacqueline then rushed forward and swung the stone-fist at her opponent, causing him to flinch at the amount of momentum it carried as he blocked it with crossed hands. Black then quickly swept out Jacqueline's legs from under her, drew his blade and stabbed downwards, causing a grey shimmer to encompass her entire body before she smacked the sword away with another stone hand and rolled away. Locked in another standoff with The huntress breathing much harder now, Black decided now was the time to push the attack as he punched five times; once to the head, twice to the chest and two more to the stomach.

Jacqueline was knocked backwards once more by the blow and using her spear as a crutch, stood on shaky legs, breathing muffling breaths of pain, tolerance and then anger as she glared at her opponent who was now standing a fair distance away with a hidden smirk on his face as he loaded the marked bullet into his right revolver.

"Why do you do this?" She asked. "The White Fang are going to destroy Vale if no one intervenes!"

Black then drew both his revolvers, twirled them in his hands and answered his opponent. "I got orders." He replied, gripping the guns by the handles, making them stop mid-rotation. "And I plan to see them through to the end." He said with finality as he took a step with his left foot and fired with the corresponding hand. The bullet shot straight though Jacqueline's chest and Black took another step forward, firing again as he did so. The bullet made a hole in her chest identical to the first and Black took one more step, this next shot aimed at her face. The bullet left a massive hole in her cheek and Jacqueline's head shot backwards, letting loose a scream of pain towards the heavens as the master gunslinger continued to step forward, holstered his left gun and fired three rounds into her stomach, causing her to fall to her knees and faceplant on the hard dirt as the color soon drained from her face.

"Another one bites the dust." He declared as he holstered his revolvers, cut off the huntresses' symbol stitched into her shirt and then looked down the road where his target has come and through the trees, just barely managed to see the fortified house on top of a hill and a brief, second long memory flooded his mind.

He remembered a house on the top of a hill, two voices talking, shouting actually. a winding dirt road up to the house, a figure next to him and two others at the top of the hill close to the house. Black then blinked and he was back to the present, wondering just what the image meant as he made the return voyage to the warehouse.


	4. Discoveries

Once back at his temporary headquarters, Black discovered that Roman wasn't there so he decided to call him. The line rang four times before Roman answered.

"What is it?"

"Battara's dead." Black replied. A long silence followed his words and the mercenary removed the device from his ear to see if it was still connected, which it was. "Roman?"

"You at the warehouse?"

"Yeah."

"Phone Cinder at this number and tell her what you told me." He said as he listed off the pyromancer's scroll number.

After just two rings, a voice picked up. "Hello?"

"Cinder? It's Black. Battara's dead."

"And the police?"

"Unconscious, every one of them."

He heard the black-haired woman take a deep breath from the other end of the line. "Back of the warehouse where we were introduced, third shipping container on the left. There's a briefcase inside with your money. Once you have it, call Roman for your next assignment." With that she hung up and Black put the device in his pocket. Following her instructions, the mercenary found the large black case containing a hundred notes of fifty lien each, totalling up to his promised five thousand.

Satisfied with his payment, he called Roman who immediately answered. "You got your money?"

"Yeah, now I just need a place to put it. Speaking of, before the next assignment I need to visit that safehouse."

"Yup, no problem." Roman replied. "Just outside the warehouse, there's an airship and in the pilot's seat is a lackey named Bruce. Just tell him that you're my new employee and to take you to the safehouse. He'll be your own personal pilot from now on."

"Thanks boss, I'll talk to you when I've dropped off the cash." Black said before hanging up. After he proceeded outside and spoke with Bruce who then delivered Black to his new quarters which were just as isolated as Roman said.

While only ten minutes away from the city of Vale, the small house was surrounded by dense forests and well hidden from overhead view. Bruce landed in a clearing just a few feet away from the house and Black disembarked to drop off his cash and take in his new quarters. A brown picket fence lined the lawn while the house itself featured a porch with an old wooden rocking chair that creaked every time the wind blew, a clothesline attached to a nearby tree and a sliding glass door. As Black moved the door to the side and closed it behind him, he was greeted by the smell of thick dust that indicated no one had lived there in a very long time. To his left was a small library, to his right, the dining room and combined kitchen while at the end of a short hallway was three doors, the first door on his left leading to what looked to be the main bedroom while the right led to a guest room of sorts and the last was the bathroom.

Black sighed at the conditions of the place. _It's old but uh… filthy._ He thought as he placed his briefcase full of cash on the dining room table and taking three hundred lien with him, placing the notes in his pockets. He then met with Bruce once more who flew him back to the warehouse in Vale and gave him his scroll number in case an emergency evacuation was needed.

The gunslinger phoned Roman once more. "You couldn't have given me somewhere at least clean?" Black asked.

He heard Roman chuckle. "There's a broom somewhere in there. Just be glad that the place still has running water and electricity."

"Whatever. Anyway, what've you got lined up for me?"

"First, a question; how well do you work with others?"

"Not very well." Black replied.

"Good enough. We're taking some supplies from the military but we don't have enough man power so you're to head to these coordinates, regroup with a White Fang Lieutenant, and take what you can."

Roman hung up and Black received a list of digits and letters unknown to him that he figured must've been the coordinates for the mission. After he showed the message to Bruce, the pilot immediately took off and headed west. Twenty minutes of flight time later, Black saw a long railroad track covered by a forest on either side. Rather than landing though, Bruce hovered the airship several feet off the ground and yelled for Black to jump.

The mercenary opened the door of the bullhead and leapt out, colliding into the ground with tremendous force before the aircraft flew off. Black took in his surroundings and after seeing no one, began to wonder if Bruce even dropped him in the right place.

Suddenly, several dozen troops wearing the familiar White Fang uniform emerged from the trees on both sides of the tracks and aimed their rifles at him. Black chuckled to himself and turned full circle, gazing at the many masked faces.

"You guys really wanna' do this?"

"It might be a good idea if you told us who you were." A deep voice declared.

Turning to face the origin of the voice, Black began to wonder if Torr had sons as he looked at the massive figure of a person wearing a slightly modified mask clad in a shorter version of the shirts that the rest of the White Fang wore which displayed a set of arms that looked like they could tear a Netherrealm demon in half while he shouldered a large chainsaw.

"Erron Black. Can I assume you're the Lieutenant?" He nodded back. "Roman told me to come help you guys, said something about stealing military supplies?"

At the mention of Roman's name, the rest of the White Fang lowered their guns as the larger one scoffed. "We told him to send more members of our organization and you're all we get?"

"I'm all you need." Came Black's reply. "What are we taking?"

The large faunus let loose an exasperated sigh and nodded to the tracks. "The train that's coming in about ten minutes is carrying a couple military prototypes that would be very useful."

"How are we stopping it?"

The Lieutenant nodded at a nearby soldier who then pulled an explosive out of a satchel at his side. "We're going to place these on the tracks, derail the train, take out any personnel that stand in our path and take the weapons." The higher-ranking warrior explained.

Black gave the muscular faunus a nod. "How much longer until the train gets here?"

"About ten minutes." He reiterated. He then turned his gaze to the soldier carrying the explosives. "Place the charges and I want everyone into hiding." On his order, two soldiers began to set six explosives on the tracks and returned to their cover position in the tree line. The Lieutenant waved Black over as he took cover and as he crouched next to the man, another brief memory flashed in his mind.

He remembered the house on the hill again, voices continuing to shout, and another figure crouched next to him. "Do you think they'll stop soon?" a younger version of Black asked.

The shadowed figure next to him shook its head. "I want them to, but I don't think they will." That was when Black saw it. It was just a sliver of colour, but it was still there and Black's mind had never once led him astray.

A strand of ash-grey hair. He then remembered the kid he bumped into when he left the warehouse after being introduced to Cinder and a thought came to mind.

 _Could he have been part of my childhood somehow?_ The marksman thought. _No, that's crazy. Isn't it? I mean, I never knew my dad and mom died when I was pretty young. Then again, if I just asked the dumbass about his childhood then there's no way our stories would match up._ Black pondered the insane coincidence until the Lieutenant ribbed him with his elbow.

"Get ready." He ordered as the sound of steel wheels on polished rails came into listening range. The Lieutenant shifted his head over to the soldier on his left and nodded. "Do it."

With the push of the detonator, six explosions rang out and the rails were annihilated, sending the speeding train, which towed roughly thirty cars some of which had there roofs covered and others that carried large metal humanoid weapons careening off its course to the left side of the rails. The engine, as well as the first two cars, all tipped on their side as they slid into the trees.

"Now! Move, move, move!" The Lieutenant ordered. Swiftly, Black and the White Fang soldiers sprinted out of the brush and towards the train. The door to one of the covered cars opened up and out came several robotic soldiers clad in white carrying rifles. Black was able to eliminate the first half-dozen that came out easily but as he reloaded, they seemed to just flow forward like water through a busted dam. Soon, the White Fang were evenly matched as they suppressed their opponents and slowly moved forward.

Black finally reached the open car and was able to take cover while he reloaded. As he reached for more bullets from his hat, he noticed that he was completely out of rounds and would have to resort to close combat after the magazines in his revolvers and rifle were empty. _Should have talked to Roman about ammo_ _ **before**_ _I left the HQ._ He chastised himself angrily. Climbing up on the train's storage car that hosted three of the massive mechanical weapons, he took cover behind one of the legs and aimed carefully before picking off targets one by one.

However, for every one that he took down, two more took its place. He scanned the area as he switched to his revolvers for the Lieutenant who was pointing at the machines and shouting at his comrades in arms. Without warning, Black felt his cover move against his back and he took a step back and watched as a White Fang soldier hopped into the cockpit and began to run away from the confrontation and into the forest. Or rather, **through** the forest, knocking down every tree, shrub and twig that stood in his way. Black could only watch as twenty more of his comrades including the Lieutenant stole the mechs and ran off in different directions.

In his awe, a dozen of the robotic soldiers surrounded Black and a synthesized voice boomed at him. "Drop your weapons or you **will** be fired upon." It commanded. Unwilling to give in, Black stood there with his pistols drawn by his hips, planning on what he could possibly do.

"You have three seconds left to comply." The robotic voice declared.

 _Can't use a sand grenade, they're robotic._

"Two."

 _Can't run, they're going to shoot me in the back._

"One."

Black closed his eyes and exhaled deeply. _Guess this is it._ He thought resignedly.

He heard the first gunshot and instinctively crouched, taking a knee on the metal of the train car. He waited for the death, but he could still hear the sounds of rifles firing. Confused, he looked up to see several bullets moving extremely slowly within a light grey dome with a radius of about a foot and a half that surrounded him. Deciding to try and figure what it was later, Black rolled out of the dome and emptied the last of his ammunition into the dozen Atlesian knights that surrounded him, the robots giving out buzzes and bleeps as they fell to the ground.

The small dome disappeared and Black pulled out his scroll, called Bruce who then promptly picked him up and dropped him back off at his safehouse. From there, anger began to fester within the gunslinger and he phoned Roman.

"Hey, I heard your assignment was successful."

"Yeah." Black declared with a chuckle that barely hid his anger. "But what you didn't tell me is that the other guys were going to run out on me!" He thundered into the device.

"I figured you could handle yourself." The answer did nothing to relive the mercenary's disposition.

Black let out a frustrated growl as he slid open the door to his new home and put Roman on speaker as he tossed the device on the dining room table. "I need bullets Torchwick, and I need them right godamn now."

"Uh…" He could practically hear his employer sweating over the other side of the line. "About that… your weapons aren't like anything we've seen before so I doubt our ammo is compatible with them."

"Meaning?"

"We'll either have to modify your weapons or get you some new ones." His employer declared with a nervous breath.

Black just massaged his forehead in frustration. _There is no way in hell I'm getting rid of these things. Just wouldn't feel right._ "How long would it take to modify them?"

"Not long. About twelve hours, give or take one or two."

Black hitched his thumbs in the pockets of his weathered pants and leaned against an empty wall. "Fine. Who do I talk to?"

"Back at the warehouse, ask around for a guy named 'Dom'. He's our arms repairman and he'll help you out if your weapon jams or whatever."

"Got it. Any more assignments?"

"Not for the next two days at least. I hired a gun, not a knife so I need your weapons fully functional before I see you back in action."

"Well what the fuck am I supposed to do in the meantime?!"

"Take a vacation." Roman declared smugly as he hung up.

"Ass." Black grumbled as he ordered his personal pilot to fly back to the warehouse where just a few shipping containers were left. After finding the ram-faunus and handing over his revolvers, rifle and threatening to bleed him dry if he even tried to change how his weapons looked, Black flew back to his home and decided to clean up the place to make it liveable.

After some cleanup work was done and the setting sun shone through the glass door and the few windows, Black had nothing to do but sit around. His mind then drifted to the flashbacks he'd been having and decided to settle his troubled brain once and for all.

He called Cinder on her scroll and the pyromancer quickly answered.

"Yes?"

"It's Black. Is that grey-haired guy there?" He inquired.

"Mercury?" She asked, intrigued.

"Sure." He replied with a shrug, unable to remember if that was his name or not.

"Mercury, you have someone who wishes to speak to you." He heard Cinder declare faintly.

"Yeah?" Black heard the boy's voice inquire.

"Hey, just shut up and listen for a second." He started aggressively. "Are you an only child?"

"Maybe, I don't know. Why?"

Black ignored the question as he pursued further. "You remember your mom?"

"My dad told me she left." Mercury snapped back. "Why?"

"Where'd you grow up?"

"Listen asshole, I'm not telling you anything more until you tell me why the hell you're asking me all the personal questions!" Mercury declared defiantly.

"Just testing a theory." Black replied vaguely.

"Not good enough. Bye."

"Wait!" Black called into the scroll.

"Change of mind?"

Black sighed and massaged his forehead once more as he took a seat at the dining table. "I think… I think we might be brothers."

The response was met with silence. Black made sure the line was still connected, which it was and returned it to his ear.

"Kid, you still there?"

"Yeah, I'm-I'm here."

"Tell me about where you grew up."

"It was in a house on the top of a hill. Uh… there was a forest that surrounded the place… I don't know what else to say."

"Your mom." Black returned to the subject. "You're sure you don't remember her?"

"Absolutely. My shitbag excuse of a dad said she left. I tried bringing her up again but he just hit me every time I said the word 'mom'."

"Your parents argue a lot?"

"I-I think so, yeah." Mercury replied, his voice becoming softer and more neutral. "I remember a lot of yelling from my childhood."

"And you're sure you're an only child?"

Mercury sighed. "I grew up without any siblings if that's what you mean. Who knows how many other women my dad slept with?"

"Okay well…" Black took a deep breath. "I think that you're my younger brother and our mom left and took me with her. I'm not a hundred percent sure how she ended up in Earthrealm, but I keep having these weird flashbacks of a house on top of a hill with a forest around it."

"But you look like you're forty years old." Mercury pointed out. "How can you be my brother if you're so much older than me?"

"Time probably moves much faster between the six realms and here given the distance." Black hypothesized. "I'm also closer to a hundred and ninety."

"This...this is unbelievable." Mercury declared. "If you're really my brother, you'd remember what my dad looked like. Tell me what he looked like!" The grey-themed boy demanded.

From the other end of the line, Black cringed. Hearing his possible brother shout at him hurt him far more than any of the previous injuries he had sustained. He bit his lower lip in concentration and searched his mind for any fragments of memory that might give him an indication of what his father looked like.

That's when it hit him. The first flashback came back and flooded his mind fully colorized like a burst dam.

"Deb, You can't do this! You can't just walk out and take my oldest son whenever you want!" His father objected as he tightly gripped Mercury's wrist beside him at the top of hill in front of his original home.

"I can't believe you never told me you were an assassin, Marcus!" His mother screamed back with tears in her eyes as she held onto Black's hand and led him away from the house on the hill. Black remembered crying himself as he stole one last look back at his little brother who was just three years younger than him.

"Our father was an alcoholic albino. He had white hair with red eyes, always smelled like beer and whiskey and killed for a living. He usually wore a red t-shirt with the sleeves cut off and a pair of black cargo pants with steel-toed boots."

Black heard Mercury let out a shaky breath from the other end of the line and sniffle. "Ho-holy shit. Bro?"

The ghost of a smile graced Black's concealed lips. "Yeah?"

"We've uh…" A long pause. "We've got a lot of catching up to do." He declared with a light laugh.

* * *

(AN: I'm so sorry I made you guys wait this long for this chapter but believe me when I say I try to write every day but I just end up watching youtube videos the entire time. It's for this reason and it pains me to do this, but I've decided to put this story on hiatus until December. I just can't think in the summer heat and I'll be busy playing Shadow of War during October and during November I've signed myself up for a novel in a month event so I'll be unable to write during that time. Again, I apologize for the delay and putting the story on hiatus because I've really enjoyed writing it.)


	5. Reunited

"So do you have some time off when we can talk?" Black asked his younger brother.

"Uh, the weekend's starting so there's then." Mercury offered. "We're not doing anything this Saturday or Sunday are we?" He asked. Black heard two voices simultaneously say 'no' in the background. "Yeah, the weekend's good." He confirmed.

"Alright, well…" Black started, unsure of what he was feeling at the moment. "How about we meet at Beacon tomorrow morning at eleven? No one knows my face so we can just walk around."

"What about that assignment Cinder sent you on to kill Battara? Didn't you leave the cops alive?"

Black scoffed and chuckled. "Bro, I gave them concussions so bad they probably don't even remember what their first names are, much less what I look like."

"He's right." He heard Cinder declare. "If they knew his face, the police would've issued a statement telling people to look out for him and so far, they haven't said a thing."

"Okay then. Beacon air docks, eleven o'clock tomorrow morning. See ya' then, bro."

"Kay, see ya'." Black then hung up as a strange feeling overwhelmed him. After close to two centuries, he finally found someone worth caring about. Most people had to earn or pay for Black's protection but his brother had already earned it by surviving as long as he did in the same house as their father and then killing him before his twentieth birthday. Black had started racking up his kill count when he was either twenty-five or thirty, he couldn't remember.

He shook his head to clear it of those thoughts and went to take a hot shower. After doing so, he went to bed with his salvaged tarkatan arm blade resting next to the nightstand.

Black woke the next morning at what he guessed to be nine given the sun's position in the sky. His stomach grumbled and he made for the fridge but his heart sank slightly when he opened it to discover nothing inside. _Gotta buy groceries sometime today._ He thought as he pulled his shirt and poncho over his head.

He then called Bruce to come pick him up and sat on the rocking chair outside as he waited for the airship. He pulled his hat low over his eyes and relaxed until he heard the rustling of shrubbery in the forest. His eyes flew open and he rushed back inside to retrieve his makeshift sword. Upon exiting the dwelling once more, he saw that a beowolf had decided to investigate the new homeowner and his shelter.

Black immediately took action by charging the beast and slid in between its hind legs, slicing one of the limbs as he did so. It howled in both agony and rage before spinning around with a paw raised, ready to strike. Black saw the blow incoming and for some odd reason, the same small grey dome appeared once more, slowing the beowolf's attack significantly. Confused, Black thrust his blade into his attacker's wrist and realized that he was still moving at a normal pace while becoming quickly exhausted. He then barely had enough energy left as he leapt directly towards the beowolf's heart, blade poised to deliver the final attack. Black's body weight sent the two tumbling to the ground and the wolf-grimm let out a final pained howl before going completely limp and disintegrating.

Still perplexed as to what the dome was, Black continued to think about it as he wiped the black blood on the back of his cape and sheathed his sword over his back.

A few minutes later, Bruce's airship landed and they flew to the Beacon air docks. Because Bruce was clad in his usual White Fang uniform, he had to drop Black off just outside of downtown Vale, forcing the marksman to take an airship to his brother's location.

As he sat in the seat, a feeling previously unknown to him crept into his mind; anxiousness.

It was incredibly unfit for a man such as himself. He'd brutally dispatched hordes of tarkatan soldiers without even blinking, killed from hundreds of metres away from his targets, never once hitting elsewhere but the head and not **once** had this feeling encroached on his brain.

 _I don't think just a casual 'how's it going?' is gonna do it. That just sounds flat out idiotic._ He thought as the large aircraft landed at the academy's docks and the ramp descended.

The way was clear and the rest of the passengers disembarked but Black remained seated, still unprepared for the daunting task ahead. In the end, his subconscious took over his body forcing him to mindlessly put one foot in front of the other. As he walked, a head of silver hair appeared in his peripheral vision and upon looking to his right, saw Mercury taking slow strides towards him dressed in the clothes he wore upon their first meeting.

Black began walking towards him and they both stood a foot away from each other, neither sure of what to say.

"So…" Mercury started. "You're my brother."

"Uh, yeah. I-I guess so."

The Black brothers looked into each other's eyes and began to chuckle, their mirth soon turning into loud, breathless laughs as they realized their lack of social skills.

"Oh man, we really suck at this huh?" Erron asked as he recovered.

Mercury could only nod back as he slowly stopped laughing and smiled. "Hell with this, let's go grab a drink. There's a bar I know that's just in town." The elder brother nodded back and the two boarded the aircraft back to Vale where Mercury pointed out a small, single-floor bar loaded with lowlives and criminals of the like.

The bartender didn't even bother asking Mercury for his ID as the brothers ordered a couple beers and began to converse at a table in the corner of the bar.

"So I heard dad was your first kill." Erron stated.

Mercury's expression turned to a scowl. "Yeah, what about it?"

Erron chuckled lightly. "Don't worry, I'm not judging. If he tried to take you out, then he wasn't really your…I mean our dad. I'm just curious as to what set you off." He inquired taking a swig of his drink.

The grey themed boy tapped on the glass of the bottle and took a deep breath. "He uh… he tried to force me into working as his apprentice forever rather than letting me take my career into my own hands." He declared, pausing only to take a drink. "I knew that if that happened, he would've taken ninety percent of what we made and would've left me with hardly anything." His gaze shifted up to Erron who was now almost exploding with rage at his father's actions. "Next thing I know, the house is burning down, dad's trying to kill me and my legs are busted up. That's when I met Cinder and Emerald. They were looking for the shitbag we used to call 'dad' and when I showed them his body, they recruited me instead." He explained.

Erron let out a chuckle and smirked. It was satisfying to know that his brother could kill anyone without remorse. "You said your legs got busted up.' How bad?"

In response, Mercury slid his chair out slightly and rolled up his left pant leg, revealing the prosthetic limb. "It's like that until just above the knee." He declared before disguising his injury once more. "They add a helluva lot more power though." He stated with a smirk.

Erron smirked back and raised his beer. "To killing."

His brother grinned back devilishly and tapped his bottle against his brother's. "To killing."

"So how many?" Mercury asked.

Black leaned back in his seat and shifted his gaze to the ceiling of the building. "From contracts, about fifty or so. Total, I'd have to say around… five, maybe six hundred."

"Bull-fucking shit!" Mercury shouted in protest. "There's no way…"

"A hundred and ninety years is a damn long time, bro. You don't think that living in a world where enemies are around every single corner might add up over time?" The younger of the Black brothers let out a sigh and hung his head. "Hey, you good?" Erron asked.

Mercury shook his head and let out a light laugh. "I'm jealous. Having that many to your name must give you quite the reputation."

"Yeah, but also gives you more than a few enemies as well."

"That how you ended up here? One of them try to get rid of you?"

Erron paused before answering. "I think so, yeah. I got paid by an anonymous source in advance to kill my previous employer. Unfortunately, one of his other bodyguards got in the way at the last second and saved his life."

"Wow, talk about shitty luck."

"Yeah, no kidding." Erron declared dejectedly, ashamed that an assassin as skilled as himself failed to complete the task given to him. "Hey." He grabbed Mercury's attention and raised his bottle of booze. "To cash."

His silver themed brother chuckled back. "And much more." He said with a smirk as the bottles clanked against each other.

"Since when did this become a country bar for kids?" A gruff voice inquired. The Black brothers turned their heads to the bar to see a large, heavyset man turning his head away from them and towards the bartender.

"You wanna say that again?" Mercury snapped.

The man scoffed and turned back to the two. "You're right, I'm sorry. I meant whiny little bitches." He declared with a smirk.

Much to Erron's surprise, his brother began chuckling and took a swig of beer before making his way over to the bar. "Merc…" The eldest warned.

But it was too late. He had already placed his hand on the man's shoulder and Erron knew one of two things was about to happen; either the man would be laying on the ground bleeding or dead in about five minutes.

"That's funny. Name's Mercury. What's yours?"

Confused, the man drawled out the name Frank. Mercury clapped him on the shoulder and gestured for Frank to follow him over to their table where Erron leaned back in his chair. "Erron, this is Frank, the guy who seems to think he owns the damn place."

In an instant, Frank's expression turned to hostile but before he could act, Mercury's artificial leg slammed into the back of his head, sending him crashing through the wooden table.

"You know, you're lucky I had my beer in my hand." Erron declared casually as two of Frank's associates rushed to take Mercury down.

"Aw come on, you've got the money right?" The younger of the two replied as he took down both assailants with a single flying roundhouse to the head.

Erron sighed, downed the last of his drink, fastened his mask around his head and threw the bottle at yet another attacker that Mercury failed to notice.

"Eyes and ears open all the time, little bro." He said as he seized Frank's wrist and threw a devastating punch at his elbow, breaking his arm. Once the man's screams of pain had died down, he knelt down and grabbed a handful of hair, bringing the other man face to face. "Mess with one of us, you face both." Standing once more, he made for the door while Mercury followed close behind.

Once back at Beacon, the bond between the two was more solid than either thought possible.

"Is that what they call family therapy?" Mercury inquired to his sibling.

Erron shrugged back. "I think so. Some people talk about their problems but apparently we use violence to solve our issues."

When Mercury laughed, Erron felt something within his chest he'd never known before; affection. But it was when they shared a short embrace, all Erron's desires for money fell away. The only thing that mattered to him was the safety and well being of his brother, something that Cinder took notice of as she observed the two. After making an inquiry to the Queen of the Grimm, Her faction gained one more member and after the Fall of Beacon, Erron could be seen always by his brother's side when he wasn't assigned to a mission from Cinder or this woman known as Salem.

As long as the Black brothers remained on Her side, Remnant would never know the meaning of peace.

(AN: Wow, I feel like such a piece of shit for writing this. Ever since I put this story on hiatus, no good ideas have come to mind and I'm truly sorry for ending it on such a bad note. Anyway, feel free to review or PM me about what you think.

Yours truly, Vanguard 523)


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